


Captain Jack Again

by pfyre



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-17
Updated: 2010-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-06 09:10:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pfyre/pseuds/pfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Torn between love and duty, the decision is taken from his hands...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain Jack Again

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Torchwood 1.13
> 
> Warnings: slash
> 
> Beta: Ozmandius
> 
> I was out of town when the finale aired and came home to immediately begin downloading the final two eps of Torchwood series one. Desperate enough that I downloaded a tiny version (to load onto the LifeDrive cause I couldn't wait for the larger one to complete!). *sheepish grin* As I told my beta - Doctor Who and Torchwood are NOT supposed to make you cry but dammit all RTD and the writers and the cast and the production managed to do that to me. I cried when Rose was permanently separated from the Doctor and I cried when Jack and Jack danced, then kissed and then had to separate. And dammit all I cried when Jack was reunited with the team at the end of 13 and got sniffly again when he reacted with such joy when the Doctor finally came by to pick him up...
> 
> So then I was discussing the episode for the umpteenth time with another TW fan and we got to speculating on what would've happened if Jack had NOT had duties in the present day TW timeline. Would he have stayed in 1941? How would that have affected things? And suddenly the muse latched onto the idea for this fanfic and would NOT let it go and would not let me get anything else accomplished until it was done. So here it is - my thanks to my beta reader extraordinaire - Ozmandius - she keeps me coherent and makes me seem so much better at this than I truly am. Any remaining mistakes are purely my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: "Torchwood" and its characters and situations are the creative and intellectual properties of Russell T. Davies and the BBC. This fiction was written solely for the entertainment of Torchwood/Doctor Who fans. No monies made. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Feedback: Feedback is highly encouraged. Flames will be ignored.
> 
> Original publication date: 08-July 2007

ooOoo  
ooOoo  
ooOoo

He glanced at his wrist comp and once again at his watch... The timing had to be just so. Gwen should be unsuspecting and Tosh... Well, she might suspect but would not make an issue unless he invited her to do so...

With a quick look around, he entered the building from a side door in the alley. It would not do to have Tosh or Ianto scan the CCTV recordings only to see him where and when he should not be. He double checked his pockets... SUV keys, wallet with ID and money... all carefully preserved and set aside just for this day... He did not have his great coat but Tosh would have that for him. Perhaps most surprising, he had not missed it...

ooOoo

Too lost in his own heartache he had been almost unaware of the other's approach until he was standing directly in front of the table. A hand reached out and carefully pulled him from Tosh's attempt to comfort. It felt surreal... too good to be true... His courage nearly left him as he was drawn to his feet and felt compelled to meet the other man's gaze.

All the reasons they should not be doing this fled as they embraced in a slow intimate dance. His heart beat so fast and hard he was certain the other must surely hear it even above the music. And they swayed and turned, following a dance, a rhythm known only to lovers throughout eternity...

The noise of the bystanders faded to nothingness as he let the presence of the man he had only known a precious few hours overwhelm him. He was comforted and protected and in turn he did the same for the one holding him. Their dance progressed and then... as if choreographed a pause and he felt the other man's warm breath sweet on his face as they drew closer...

...The rift broke open with blinding blue-white light and a nearly deafening roar and yet for just a moment he was tempted to simply ignore it. Be damned whatever the consequences a part of him argued... But he could not help but hear Tosh's plea. "Jack! Jack, we have to get out!... Jack, you have to...We need you"... back at Torchwood his conscience added.

It felt as though a part of him was ripped and broken as he forced himself to pull away from Jack Harkness of the 133rd. "I have to go." His voice did not crack but it was choked with unshed tears. "It's my duty..." He knew the other understood even before he saw the slight nod, but...

He did move to join Toshiko, but paused only a few steps from his Captain and returned. The kiss was searing; two lonely, pain-tempered souls searching for comfort, seeking a mate, trying to fuse if only for a moment. He took a half-step back. Still staring into the depths of the other's eyes, he called loudly, "Go on ahead, Tosh. I'm right behind you. I'll meet you at the front door!..."

...And in the blink of an eye the rift snapped shut with Tosh on the other side in 2006 and himself still in the arms of the other Jack Harkness, the real Captain and hero.

ooOoo

The abrupt cessation of the roar from the Rift and lack of blinding light left her momentarily stunned. Tosh's next thought was 'Oh, no! Jack's still trapped!' Then she was running to the front door and the SUV, desperately clinging to Jack's great coat as she did to the hope that whatever they had done at the Hub could be repeated; that the Rift could be reopened long enough for Jack to be rescued. She yanked open the door to over-bright afternoon light and stumbled down the steps as Jack pushed towards the sidewalk from behind her. "JACK!!" she yelped, her legs nearly giving way in shock.

"Tosh." His voice no less emotional despite the fact they had seen each other only moments before on the dancefloor. His arms steadied her.

"You're here! You're safe." She hugged him tightly then stepped back to look at him. "But how?... What?"

"I don't know." He shook his head, but she could see the haunted look in his eyes. "I told you I'd meet you at the door and suddenly I found myself running down the stairs to the door." He shrugged, exhaustion written clearly on his face, in the slump of his shoulders. She pushed his coat into his arms and he pulled it on.

"Jack! Ah! You made it!" They turned as Gwen launched herself at Jack. "You made it!" The young Welsh woman laughed and babbled. "Ah, come 'ere, Tosh!" Toshiko let herself be hugged hard, but looking over the other woman's shoulder she could see that something was different with Jack. It was more than just the pain of separation from the other Jack Harkness she saw but something else had left its mark on him.

ooOoo

"And there were angels dancing at the Ritz..." His voice was not quite steady on the last bit. He strode determinedly towards his office, unwilling to show any more weakness in front of the others. They had worked so doggedly to get Tosh and him back from 1941 and despite some more than obvious discord, they had managed to accomplish what they had started out to do. He was genuinely impressed that Ianto had tried to stand up against Owen and had even followed through on his threat to shoot. He was proud of them even if he felt heartsick.

He did not turn around when the door closed behind him. He poured a glass of pale amber liquid and handed it to Toshiko and poured another for himself. "He would have been so proud that you took his name." He saw tears in her eyes, ones that mirrored his own. "'Cause here you are saving the world." She lifted her glass and they toasted. "To Captain Jack."

"To Captain Jack..." His throat was so tight that for a moment he was uncertain if he would be able to swallow the cognac. It burned all the way down; a convenient excuse to cover the tears that filled his eyes. Two more swallows and he set the empty glass on his desk. Tosh's hand on his brought his attention back to her.

"Jack?" Her sincere concern nearly undid him. "Is there anything-" she trailed off.

"Maybe later." He shook his head. He was not ready to share yet. He did not know if he would ever be ready to share exactly what had happened.

ooOoo

The two men blinked in shock as the sound and the light disappeared abruptly. Jack glanced around at the bystanders as a few seemed to blink, to shift as time struggled to restart itself. He grabbed the other man's hand and yanked him towards the stairs. They did not have much time. They could not stay there and wait for the others to recover their wits.

ooOoo

"Sir?"

Jack looked up from the report he had been staring blindly at for over a half-hour.

"Before I leave for the night... Is there anything you need?" Ianto looked concerned. "You didn't eat anything earlier. If you'd like, I could-"

He almost asked him to stay. Almost... but even though it had been over sixty-five years since the events happened to him, it was once again raw. The wounds ripped open when he stepped back into his life at Torchwood were too painful to examine or explain. He would not misuse the younger man's care for him.

"Thanks." He shook his head. "But I'm set." He gave Ianto a small smile. He hoped it looked real. "You have a good evening."

ooOoo

He normally did not need to sleep, did not want to sleep. But the events of the day, hell of the last sixty-five years seemed to have caught up with him and only a short time after Ianto left Jack could hardly keep his eyes open. Reluctantly and with great effort, he pushed himself to his feet and moved to his sleeping quarters. The effort of climbing down into the small chamber was almost beyond him. He barely managed to kick off his boots and he collapsed fully clothed on the mattress tucked into the niche and was asleep before he could even think to worry.

ooOoo

"Where are we going?" The other Jack, the real Jack, followed willingly behind him, pausing only long enough to grab his coat from the cloak room. The girl usually behind the counter was no where to be seen so he dropped a few coins in her basket.

The air outside the club was quite crisp as they stepped out and Jack realized that he no longer had his coat. Toshiko had had it in her arms when she called him to get out.

"Are you billeted on the base in the barracks with your men?" His mind scrambled, trying to figure things out as he turned to look at the other man.

"No." Captain Jack shook his head. "The officers were in quarters on the base, but the roof came down after a good shaking when the bombs dropped a few days ago." He frowned as he watched Jack roll down his sleeves against the cold and held out his coat to the other man. "Here, use this. I'm fine with my jacket."

"Uh..." Jack paused, but took the offered coat gratefully. "Thanks." He shrugged it on. They were similar in height and build and the coat almost felt like his own.

"Umm..." The American frowned and continued. "They found us temporary accommodations at a nearby boarding house." This time he took the other man's hand and pulled him toward the corner. "The car I signed out for the night is just around here."

He felt out of phase almost; still in shock he supposed. It was not until they had stopped in front of drab grey house that he realized the other Jack had come around the car, opened the door and was speaking to him. "I'm sorry?" He turned in his seat and the other man moved in close preventing him from getting out of the car.

"I asked if you were okay." The real Jack looked deeply concerned. "I know I don't understand what happened back there. Your friend Tosh disappearing in that light... The others just sort of frozen around us... But you seem more affected by it."

The concern nearly undid his control. "I... I'm fine... I'll be fine..." He still could not seem to get his thoughts around what had happened; what was still happening; what was about to happen. His eyes filled with tears as he realized that even now he could not stop Jack from going on the training exercise tomorrow morning. He knew that instinctively. Even if he told the man everything, warned him, Jack would do his duty. He shivered.

"Hey," a warm hand pulled him from the car and led him to the side door of the boarding house. "Let's get inside where it's warm and we'll figure things out."

The American Captain's room was on the third floor at the back and Jack found himself pushed to a seat on the lone chair in the room. The man squeezed his hands. "You're freezing." He stood and went over to a hot plate in the corner to pick up a tiny battered kettle. "Something hot should help." He grinned. "I'm afraid I'm irreparably influence by these Brits." He held up a tin of tea. "Let me get some fresh water. Be right back."

It turned out that while he had plenty of tea and even some precious rationed sugar to sweeten it, he only had one old and chipped mug for serving. Jack did not mind. He watched the other man bring the water to a boil and dump the leaves into the kettle. Once the tea was steeped and poured, Jack moved to sit on the edge of the narrow double bed and they shared the warm beverage as they sat side by side.

Once the tea was gone, somehow without really discussing it, they were kissing and clothing disappeared. Jack felt truly warm for the first time since the Rift snapped shut. He let himself go with what was happening, not worrying for the moment what it would mean in the morning...or in sixty-five years.

Afterwards when the real Jack had fallen into a light doze, he lay there and just studied the man he held close; the man who had captured his heart and soul. The similarities between them were striking, and thus his reasoning for borrowing this man's identity. He had lived decades, nearly a century as Harkness. When he thought of himself, he never thought of any other identity or name, but he had never felt more the fraud than he did at the moment.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He found himself falling into the depths of the American's eyes. "Or should I say pence?"

"I know you have questions." He swallowed. "And you deserve answers. It's just-" His throat threatened to close. He tilted his head down and closed his eyes, no longer able to bear looking into the other man's gaze.

"It's okay." A warm kiss was placed on his brow. "I don't need to know anything you can't share."

And Jack knew he meant it and that made it all the harder for him to start the tale. But finally he took a deep breath and opened his eyes to lock gazes with the real Jack. "It's a long story, but I should start with a proper introduction. My name is not James Harper." He pulled back a bit, not enough to leave the warmth of the other man's embrace but far enough to better see his face, his reaction. "I'm Captain... Jack Harkness of... Torchwood..."

ooOoo

Deep inside Torchwood, Jack stirred in his sleep. Wakefulness edged closer as he shifted and moaned softly, but the sheer fatigue of the day, of the decades, of his burdens pulled him back into slumber.

ooOoo

When he finished his story, the other man was quiet for a long time. They had not moved. Still naked, still in each other's arms but Jack was suddenly afraid the other man would reject all he said or, worse yet, terrified that the real Jack would accept it but hate him for the deception and the bending of history and truth.

"So when you pushed me to go with Nancy, it was because you knew all of this?"

He closed his eyes and nodded. "It would've been your last chance." There had been no anger, no accusation in the other man's voice, but he was not certain what he heard. A hand brushed the side of his mouth and his eyes snapped open.

"I do care for her."

Jack's heart dropped to his stomach and he closed his eyes again as he tried to control his reaction.

"But I don't love her."

His heart skipped a beat and then started beating faster.

"I don't know how it happened..."

That hand was again on his cheek, trailing down his throat.

"I've never felt this kind of connection with anyone else. I've never felt this way with anyone else."

He opened his eyes to see tears in the real Jack's eyes and something else.

"I think I love you, Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood." There was love shining in those beautiful eyes. "No, I know love you. And I don't care that all we have is tonight." His chest was so tight he could barely breathe. "You said we should live for the moment."

He had kissed many, many times over the course of his life, even before he had become immortal. Some kisses were platonic, some were filled with enough passion to self-combust, some were sweet and light, some were bittersweet and dark... He had thought the kiss on the dancehall floor with the Rift rippling behind them had been pretty damned spectacular. It paled in comparison to this kiss. This felt even more intimate than their lovemaking had been. He would have done almost about anything to make it last forever, but of course it could not. The other Jack looked nearly as done in by it all as he was when the kiss ended.

They talked and kissed and made love twice more before the morning light inevitably crept in.

ooOoo

He woke silently crying. That was one of the many reasons why he tried to avoid sleep whenever possible. Nightmares haunted him. Dreams of dark things he witnessed and been a part of. But also bittersweet dreams of love lost...

Despite the knowledge Jack had shared with him, the real Jack had indeed joined his men on their final training exercise. There had been a surprise attack by the enemy and he had died a hero's death and his men had returned to base all safe. With the dual perspective of the timeline, he had done a bit of anonymous research and digging and found that the Rift events at the dancehall were never reported. Apparently, the witnesses had been befuddled enough after the Rift closed to not even clearly recall and report the shocking sight of two men dancing together in public.

He had moved to Canada in order to avoid any possible contact with himself during his first time through the 20th century. It had been a lonely existence as he had also not wanted to call any attention to himself and led a solitary life, filled with books and research... and his memories. He wanted to be as prepared as possible when he stepped back into his role as the head of Torchwood 3.

With six months to go he had traveled to London, well after the events on Canary Wharf, to wait. Tomorrow he would go into the records of the real Captain Jack Harkness and restore his heroic history and see to it his name was added to the appropriate memorials. It had been long enough now that no one believed he could be a man from the second World War any way and he felt he owed it to the man he had lost his soul to.

ooOoo

Jack spent the morning sifting through the ever growing stack of reports on his desk and in his email. The reports of random Rift related activities were on the increase and he was attempting to correlate any connection between the latest events and the opening of the Rift by Owen the previous afternoon. All he had succeeded in doing was to give himself a massive headache.

"Sir?" He glanced up to find Ianto holding a box address to him. "This was just delivered for you."

"Thank you." He accepted the box and set it on his desk as he returned to his research. The box remained untouched until once again the Hub was clear of everyone except him.

He would never regret the necessity of reliving those sixty-five years in virtual solitude. It was worth every long, lonely day, week, month and year in exchange for even a few hours of stolen time in 1941. He reverently pulled the great coat from the protective tissues. Even after sixty-five years it was in remarkably pristine condition. And when he buried his nose into the collar, he was almost certain he could still catch the scent of his Captain Jack Harkness of the 133rd...

ooOoo  
el fin  
ooOoo


End file.
